


And So It Goes (A Choking Rose Back)

by That_stupid_girl



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Anxiety, Eating Disorders, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, also Carrie Fisher, and Star Wars, kind of, like in a Lena doesn't eat way, more like coping mechanisms to avoid self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-12-31 04:03:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12124119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_stupid_girl/pseuds/That_stupid_girl
Summary: "Objectively, she knows that it’s stupid. She’s not trying to fool anyone, least of all herself, and so she realizes it’s more than a little ridiculous, but Lena Luthor cancels all her meetings the day Carrie Fisher dies."orThe one where Carrie Fisher dies two days after Christmas and Lena kind of can't take it.orThe one where Alex comes to tell Lena off for ignoring Kara and takes her home to watch movies instead.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this like eight months ago and I'm not even done, but I wanted to go ahead and get part of it posted as an incentive to finally finish it. It's kind of complete garbage but oh well. This is pretty dumb, and the title's just from Agnes by Glass Animals because I gave up.

Objectively, she knows that it’s stupid. She’s not trying to fool anyone, least of all herself, and so she realizes it’s more than a little ridiculous, but Lena Luthor cancels all her meetings the day Carrie Fisher dies.

She walks into her office Tuesday morning after having three glasses of eggnog on Christmas and a salad and a bottle of wine yesterday and sleeping five hours combined over the last two days (only one of them last night) and pretends she doesn’t feel as bad as she does. She walks into her nine o’clock, suffers through an hour and a half of white man nonsense, and, when she checks her phone as she leaves, stops breathing. She walks back into her office—past Jess—in a daze, then texts her assistant to cancel all meetings and let no one in.

She hates herself for it, because she honestly feels more upset than she did when her father died; she’s only met the woman twice, and she still feels like she’s lost a lung or two.

When Lena was seven and barely understood what Star Wars was about, Lex dragged her along to some convention and all Lena remembers is an overwhelming sense of amazement and glitter. So much glitter. It was the last year Lex took her, the last year he still wanted to hang out with his kid sister instead of his new friends (the last year he didn’t think of aliens as something real), and he stood with her in the two hour long line to meet Carrie Fisher, and Carrie Fisher smiled at Lena and covered her in what Lena knows was truly stardust.

And then the next time was the best day of Lena’s life. (Or, well, maybe tied for the best day of Lena’s life with the day she found out she was Kara’s friend, which is, objectively, pathetic, but oh well.) Lena is still absolutely and spectacularly shocked that she was able to attend the premiere for _The Force Awakens_ , especially after all that had happened with Lex so recently. But she was. And for the brief minute she saw Carrie Fisher—the brief minute she _spoke_ to her—Lena was not unhappy to be who she was.

And now here she is, twenty-three years old and crying on the floor of her office at two in the afternoon. If Kara calling Lena her friend being the best thing that’s ever happened to her is pathetic, then Lena doesn’t even want to think about how this must look. And it’s just, she was such a wonderful woman; Lena doesn’t need to know her well to know that. She spoke so well about being a woman in the media, about addiction, about mental health, and that’s _important;_  it just is.

Lena takes a deep breath, rakes her hand through the hair she forgot to put up this morning, then reaches to slip a hair tie off her wrist. She pulls her hair into a messy ponytail and does not care that it looks unprofessional; she can’t look anymore ridiculous than she already does in her tight black dress, jacket on the floor and legs folded beside her as she leans against the sofa that her laptop is on. _The Empire Strikes Back_ is playing and Lena is crying. Not enough that she can’t see the screen, but enough that it’s pointless to wipe her eyes. Her phone buzzes in the pocket of her jacket, Kara’s personalized vibration tone, and Lena closes her eyes. She doesn’t open them until the call stops.

She stays almost frozen for close to five minutes, then moves toward the heap of fabric on the floor. She pats down her jacket until she finds the pocket, then pulls the phone out, just to confirm that it was Kara and to see if she left a message or anything. Just because Lena loves torturing herself. Just as she’s going to turn off the screen, she gets a notification that Supergirl is now engaged in an attack with what is supposed to be a very dangerous alien. Lena’s pretty sure one of her lungs pops. If Kara dies and Lena hasn’t told her that she loves her, even in a platonic way, Lena’s not sure what she’ll do. Best not to think about that now, though. Best just to focus on an idol’s death.

And, really, it’s not even so much that Carrie Fisher died; it’s that Carrie Fisher died _now_ , two days after Christmas, two days after the first Christmas Lena has not seen anyone in her family. Lillian had called, but it was almost worse than actually seeing her, just hearing how disappointed she was over the phone. She knows it’s sort of absurd, since her family is who they are, but they’re still her family, and, as much as she hates herself for it, she still wants to please Lillian; she can’t even hate herself for still loving Lex.

Kara had called, too, of course. Hell, Kara had tried to invite Lena to Midvale, but Lena had told her she had plans with Jess, and Kara trusts her enough that she didn’t double-check that. So Kara had called her from miles away, and Lena had watched her phone ring as she sat on her couch and drank red wine at noon on Christmas Adam. She had texted Kara later, after another three calls and a bottle and a half, claiming she’d left her phone upstairs while with Jess’s family and telling Kara she hoped she’d had a great holiday.

And then Carrie Fisher was in the hospital, and Lena was even more heartbroken, and she ignored even more of Kara’s calls and texts and voicemails and the one time Kara came to her office yesterday afternoon when she got back to National city and Jess had told her that Ms. Luthor isn’t in, right now, thank you, even though Kara can see through the fucking walls, can see Lena sitting at her desk and doing nothing. She feels bad, but Kara can survive a few days without her. It won’t be hard. She’s probably mad at her by now, anyway.

She just feels so _bad_ , and, honestly, she just wants to hurt herself. But she knows that’s just what her mother would want, just what Lex would want, and she’s a fucking adult, and so she can’t.

Instead she pushes herself up off the floor, pads over to her desk, and takes a red pen from one of the cups. She opens the top right hand drawer of her desk and pulls out of a box of bandaids. If she’s going to be pathetic, she’s going to go all out. Her legs feel seconds from giving out when she sinks back down in front of her computer.

She doesn’t uncap the pen until she’s reseated, but after she does it’s instantaneous, the appearance of the lines on her arm. It makes her feel better in some sick way. Lena knows it would be so damn attention seeking if anyone was going to see her arms, but it’s not like anyone who wants to speak to Lena wants anything other than Lena Luthor™, all blazers and heels and lipstick.

Lena marks up her entire arms with red pen and hates herself as she opens the box of bandaids even though she isn’t bleeding. She watches Darth Vader put on his helmet as she peels the paper off a bandaid, plastering it onto her arm to cover up the red marks in her pseudo-semi-suicide. 

She’s three bandaids in when Carrie Fisher falls into Harrison Ford’s lap onscreen; Lena starts sobbing, her fingers fumbling with the bandaid wrappers. Through her shaking breaths, she can barely make out the screen, barely make out the noise from outside her office. She thinks she hears someone outside, but assumes it's the usual foolishly hopeful reporter or misguided protester and continues to plaster bandaids onto her arms.

She worries, briefly, that someone might notice, but, again, she's not going to see anyone who'd notice anything other than the goddamn CEO in her perfect makeup. It's not like any of them will even see her today, except for Jess, and, well, Jess knows; Jess is the one who schedules Lena's appointments with her psychiatrist, who schedules Lena's appointments with her therapist when things get really bad, who tells Lena that there's nothing wrong with going to therapy, tells Lena that Jess herself goes to therapy, that it doesn't make her weak, does Lena think Jess is weak, huh? Is that what she's saying?

And it's not, obviously, but Jess knows how to play her, and even though Lena sees exactly what she's doing every time, she goes to Amelia's office, she talks, sometimes she even says important things, and it helps. It always helps, because Jess  _does_ know her. Jess knows that the red lines on her arms do not mean she will cut herself, or that she's crazy or  _whatever_.

Jess knows when Lena needs a break. She knows how to cancel Lena's appointments, and she knows how much Carrie Fisher means to Lena, and Jess knows what's happened, but Alex Danvers does not. So when Alex storms into Lena's office, Jess running behind her, tripping in her shoes and apologizing, Lena stops breathing, because, really, how pathetic must she look? Lena barely has time to stand up and wipe furiously at her eyes, box of bandaids spilling behind her, as the door to her office is slammed open.

“What the fuck, Luthor,” Alex sneers as she pushes into Lena’s office, Jess hot on her heels.

“Ms. Luthor, I’m so sorry,” Jess rushes. “I tried to stop her, but she’s, she’s a federal agent, Lena,” Jess says, slipping out of her professional facade in her clear fear.

“It’s fine, Jess,” Lena says, managing to mask the shake in her voice as she folds her arms in front of her to hide the pen marks. Jess nods, catching Lena’s eye and stepping back out of the office. In the back of her mind, Lena can’t help but be relieved; if Alex is here, with her, it means Kara must be okay. Lena takes a deep breath.

“Agent Danvers.” Lena says, digging her fingers into her palm to keep from crying. “How can I help you?” She sets her jaw, raises her eyebrow as she lets herself slip into her traditional Luthor mask.

“Why are you ignoring Kara?” Alex asks. Before Lena has a chance to reply, however, Alex continues. “Kara has been nothing but good to you. Probably better than you deserve,” Alex starts, either ignoring or not noticing Lena’s wince and split-second frown. It’s true, after all.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Luthor, but you need to tell Kara what the fuck is going on with you.” Alex stalks toward her. Lena’s less than an inch shorter than Alex, but Lena’s also used to wearing heels, and now she’s barefoot and Alex is still in combat boots. She feels small and unprotected; it feels like Alex is towering over her.

“Agent Danvers—” Lena starts.

“Kara’s been miserable the past few days, and she loves Christmas. I don’t need you ruining her favorite holiday with your pointless bullshit,” Alex says, stepping even closer into Lena’s space. Lena puts out her hands to stop her without thinking. Alex scoffs, glancing down to Lena’s outstretched arms, and freezes. Lena follows her eyes to her now visible forearms, covered in red pen, bandaids, and scars. She quickly folds her arms back into herself, pretending it’s not too late. Alex steps back, scanning Lena’s office for the first time.

“Agent Danvers, I—” Lena doesn’t know what to say. She can feel her throat closing up; she can’t believe this is happening. She swallows, mouth dry. This can’t be happening.

She watches as Alex takes in the scattered bandaids on the floor, the uncapped pen, the laptop still playing Star Wars. She sees the moment it clicks in Alex’s mind. Alex’s face softens just slightly.

“Lena…” Alex whispers, all malice gone from her voice. Lena winces. This is worse than the yelling. Lena clears her throat, stepping back in a hasty effort to close her laptop. Alex follows her arm, her eyebrows drawing together as, Lena supposes, she realizes that Lena’s a pathetic, attention seeking _baby_ and won’t even cut herself right. Alex takes another look around the office.

“Come with me,” Alex says, turning back toward the door and motioning for Lena to follow. Lena doesn’t know what’s happening but she’s pretty sure it’s basically her worst nightmare.

“I— I’m not just going to… Agent Danvers—”

“Lena,” Alex sighs, clearly exasperated. “I’m pretty pissed at you right now, but I’m not going to leave you alone like this,” she says. Lena blanches.

“I— It’s fine. It’s not what it looks like. I’m fine,” Lena rattles off. Alex raises her eyebrows in disbelief.

“I’m sure you are,” she says. “Come with me, or I’m calling Kara.” Lena feels her face fall, the last pretenses of being at all put together slipping away. Lena doesn’t know what to do. She shoves her feet back into her heels, picks her jacket up from the floor, takes her purse off her desk, and follows Alex out of her office.

Jess raises her eyebrow at Lena as they pass, motioning toward the emergency button Lena knows is under her desk. Lena shakes her head. Jess nods, but draws her bottom lip between her teeth in worry.

Alex leads Lena out of her building and into a car parked—illegally, though Lena doesn’t say that—on the curb in front of L-Corp. Lena’s never seen this car, and Alex looks a little out of place as she merges into traffic, so Lena thinks it’s probably Maggie’s.

“Where’s your apartment?” Alex asks.

“What?”

“Where’s your apartment. Where do you live?” Alex repeats.

“No, I, I heard you. Just, I can get home by myself.” Alex rolls her eyes.

“I’m taking you to my apartment,” Alex says, slowly, clearly annoyed. Lena shrinks in on herself. “We’re stopping at your place so you can get some different clothes. Please tell me where your apartment is. Don’t be fucking difficult,” Alex, says, teeth clenched. Lena drops her eyes to her lap.

“I’m sorry.” She gives Alex her address. Alex sighs. She takes the next turn to head toward Lena’s.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” she says a few minutes later.

“It’s fine,” Lena rushes to say.

“It’s not,” Alex says, and that’s the end of the conversation. Alex keeps driving; she clearly knows where they’re going, even if she’s never been.

“This it?” Alex asks, slowing in front of Lena’s building. Lena nods. Alex pulls into an empty space in the parking lot. Lena opens the door, stepping out of the car. Alex does the same. Lena’s hands shake as Alex follows her up to her apartment. It takes too long for Lena to get her key in the door. Alex doesn’t comment.

Alex blatantly looks around Lena’s apartment, and Lena’s face burns as she realizes how empty her place really is.

“I love what you’ve done with the place,” Alex says, motioning to the couch, coffee table, tv, and nearly empty shelves that are the only furniture in Lena’s living room.

“I…” Lena twists her fingers together.

“Relax. I’m joking. Go put on some different clothes. Like pajamas or something,” Alex tells her. Lena nods, but she’s definitely freaking out. It comes from years of being conditioned to always look her best, but Lena doesn’t own normal people sleep or “hanging out” clothes. She walks to her bedroom nonetheless, opening her drawers and staring at the contents as if something exactly like what Alex expects her to wear will appear.

She doesn’t realize how long she’s been standing there until she hears a knock. Lena looks up to see Alex standing in her doorway, fist raised against the wood of the doorframe.

“What’s up? Did you lose all your clothes?” Alex asks. Lena’s face burns darker. She can’t seem to speak and it would be super helpful if she could just get her shit together for ten seconds, at least. She can feel Alex staring at her.

“Here,” Alex says, stepping toward Lena and nudging her over. She digs through Lena’s drawers without really messing anything up, then pulls out a pair of black lounge pants, whistling at the Calvin Klein waistband.

“Here,” Alex says, passing her the pants. “Put these on, you bourgeois swine.” Lena can’t help but crack a smile at that as she moves toward her bathroom.

“Wait!” Alex calls. Lena turns around to find her leafing through another drawer. She pulls out two more pieces of clothing and tosses them to Lena, who can’t help but blush as she looks at the beep blue underwear and black bralette, also Calvin Klein. “Gotta go for the whole look, you know?” Alex jokes.  

Lena retreats into her bathroom. As soon as the door is closed behind her, she collapses against it. She takes a few seconds to breathe, then moves to run cold water over her trembling hands. When she feels at least a tiny bit less frazzled, she toes off her heels and slips out of her dress. After peeling the three bandaids off her arm, she turns the water on higher and does the best she can to scrub the red ink off her skin. The best she can do is fade the markings, and it hurts the tender scarred skin to keep scrubbing.

Drying her arms off, she stares at her naked body in the mirror, the methodical, angry marks on her thighs and hips—many still pink—and her slightly swollen eyes. She looks kind of like shit. She hadn’t even put on any foundation this morning, and she’d skipped out on eyeliner, too, so she just has eyeshadow, mascara, and concealer to make her look less of a mess. After pulling the ponytail holder out, she runs her fingers through her hair, doing her best to brush it. She sighs, dropping the towel onto the counter and slipping on her underwear, bra, and pants. It’s only then that she realizes she doesn’t have a shirt to wear, and she sighs again. This is just how her day is going.

She folds her dress up, but leaves it on the bathroom counter as she walks back into her room, arms folded over her bare stomach. It’s not like she thinks she’s fat or even unattractive, she just doesn’t like being exposed. Alex notices Lena’s discomfort as she crosses the room back toward her dresser and turns around. Lena feels a pang of guilt; that’s not what she meant.

She takes out her dark red MIT sweatshirt and pulls it on over her head. As she pulls her hair from under the collar, she coughs lightly, a cue for Alex without actually acknowledging her turning away. Alex stares at her for a little too long, and Lena folds her arms back around herself.

“Sorry,” Alex shakes her head. “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so… human.” Lena’s not sure what to say to that. She ducks her head. Alex clears her throat.

“Did you go to MIT?” Alex asks, scratching at her shoulder. Lena nods.

“Yeah, for undergrad.”

“God, that was my dream school. What was your ACT?” Lena bites her lip.

“Oh my god,” Alex laughs. “You got a thirty-six, didn’t you?” Lena shrugs.

“I’m good at tests,” she says. Alex laughs again.

“No wonder you got in. Shit, that’s so impressive.”

“Tell that to my mom,” Lena mutters. Alex’s brows crease together. “Sorry,” Lena rushes to say. “Where did you go?”

“UC Berkeley,” Alex says. “Third choice. I didn’t get into MIT and was waitlisted at Northwestern. It’s a great school, though. Plus instate tuition. I got into Northwestern for med school, though.” She pauses. “You said you went to MIT for undergrad. Have you been to grad school? You’re Kara’s age.” Lena blushes.

“Um, I, yeah. I went to Columbia for grad school. Skipped second and eighth grade,” Lena shrugs. She watches as Alex does the math in her head, realizes that still doesn’t account for two or three years, and doesn’t comment. Alex shakes her head, grinning.

“Now do you have any shoes that don’t look like you bought them for a fashion show?” Lena smiles.

“I’m sure I can find something,” Lena says as she moves toward her closet. She has a few pairs of running shoes and such, but she grabs a pair of smooth, blush pink leather Adidas that Jack had gifted her for last Christmas. She’s only worn them once, because, besides the fact that she has an image to maintain, it makes her feel like complete and utter garbage to wear something given to her by a man she killed. She slips on a pair of short black socks, and then the shoes, her fingers fumbling over the gold, metal tips on the laces as she ties them. Alex whistles again as Lena walks back toward her.

“Maggie’s gonna be so jealous of those shoes,” she laughs. “Adidas anything is her favorite. She really wants these, like… They’re like light grey leather with weird holographic-y stripes? Those and these forest green running shoes. Plus like track pants and stuff,” Alex rambles as they walk back out of Lena’s apartment. Lena files away the information as future Maggie gifts. That is, as long as Kara isn’t too mad at her.

Most of the ride back to Alex’s place is quiet, but after about ten minutes Alex sighs.

“Look, Lena, I guess I get how the holidays might generally not be a great time for you, and I definitely understand what it’s like to lose a role model or something, but you can’t just ignore your friends completely. Especially Kara.”

“I’m sorry,” Lena whispers, glad that Alex is driving so she doesn’t have to look at her.

“Lena, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I promise, but if you need space or time or whatever, you need to give a warning. It’s kinda uncool to just disappear. Especially around the holidays.”

“No, that’s just it,” Lena says. “I didn’t— Look, Kara is so nice and wonderful and kind and perfect,” (she cuts herself off before she continues gushing about the love of her life to said love’s sister) “and I didn’t want to… She invited me to— She would have made me to go home with her, and I couldn’t intrude like that. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to Maggie and it’s not fair to Kara.” Alex gapes at her.

“Are you completely stupid?” Alex asks. Lena’s heart drops. “God, Lena. Kara would have invited you, because she cares about you, and doesn’t want you to spend the holidays alone, because she cares about you. You wouldn’t have been intruding, you fucking idiot, because Maggie and I would have loved to have you there, because we fucking care about you.” Alex is looking at her now, good driving be damned, but Lena can’t bring her eyes higher than Alex’s chin.

“Lena—” Alex sighs. “Lena. I may not care about you as much as I care about Kara, my literal sister who is— um, who is my sister, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. You’re probably Kara’s favorite person in the whole damn world, and Winn’s pretty fond of you, too, okay? I know your family are assholes, but it’s not like you don’t have people that love you.” And, really, what on earth is Lena supposed to say to _that_? She feels a whole lot like she can’t breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Lena finally whispers. Alex groans as she turns into a parking lot for what Lena recognizes to be her apartment. Alex turns off the car, takes out the keys, and opens the door in the time it takes for Lena to unbuckle her seatbelt.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what a mess! I had no idea where I was going with this and surprise! it went nowhere

“Come on,” Alex calls as she pushes her door closed behind her. Lena scrambles out of the car. The lights blink as Alex locks it. Alex leads her into the building and up four flights of stairs. Lena feels like she’s going to pass out and pretends she doesn’t. Alex tries the door and it’s unlocked, so she pushes it open easily, stepping aside to let Lena in without comment. 

Maggie, in cropped leggings and a loose tank top, turns around as they walk in, raising her eyebrows at Alex when she catches sign of Lena. Alex shakes her head almost imperceptibly as she drops her keys and wallet onto the counter and shrugs out of her jacket

“Hey, Lena,” Maggie smiles, even though it’s clear she was totally in on Alex walking into Lena’s office to disown her or something. Maggie turns to her girlfriend. 

“I wasn’t totally sure what ‘Star Wars and pizza’ meant,” Maggie says, “so I just rented the first one—the actual first one, the fourth one, I mean—and  _ The Force Awakens _ and ordered three pizzas. Is Kara coming?” Lena almost starts crying then and there, because Alex, even though she’s beyond pissed at Lena, and Maggie did this. For her. Or, at least a little for her, but still.

“That’s fine. And I don’t know. Maybe when she gets back from her fight…” Alex glances toward Lena. “For justice. Journalism. That’s what we call it.” Maggie rolls her eyes behind Alex, catching Lena’s eye. Lena takes this as confirmation that Maggie is perfectly aware Lena knows who Kara is. Lena doesn’t say anything, though, just nods as if Alex’s fumble was a completely valid explanation, as if she doesn’t know Kara doesn’t go back to CatCo for almost a week. 

“Which do you want to watch, Luthor?” Alex says with just as much exasperation as an hour ago but far less malice. Lena is so confused about this whole thing.

“It’s, no. Either is fine. It’s okay.” Alex looks so disappointed with her not-decision. Lena can’t tell if it’s exaggerated or not. Alex turns toward the living room, where Maggie’s pulling some blankets out of a basket. 

“Daisy Ridley,” Alex tells her. Maggie nods, moving toward the couch with the blankets over her arm. 

“I’ll be right back,” Alex says. “I’m gonna go change.” Lena nods. Everything suddenly feels surreal and now Alex—which, okay, Lena’s really confused about that in and of itself, by the way—is gone and it’s just her and Maggie, with whom she hasn’t been alone since the arrest, and she doesn’t know what to do. Lena can feel the tension building in her forehead and she knows she must look at least half as freaked out as she feels, but she can’t find it in herself to care.

“Little Luthor,” Maggie calls from the couch. “Come here.” She’s smiling at Lena, and Lena has no other option, really. She moves toward Maggie, trying to act like she doesn’t feel she’s floating outside of her body. 

“You can leave your shoes wherever,” Maggie says. Lena nods, absent, and toes off her sneakers, pushing them together and up against the side of the couch with the inside of her foot. “I might steal them, though,” Maggie adds. Lena smiles her fake smile, laughs her fake laugh. Maggie notices; she’s a detective. 

“Here,” Maggie says, patting the cushion beside her. Lena knows that isn’t where she wants to be, feeling trapped in the middle of the couch between two people who may or may not hate her, but she can’t say no, so she sits down anyway. She’s close enough to Maggie that she’s sure the detective can feel the tension radiating off of her, but Maggie just reaches over and gives Lena’s knee a soft squeeze. 

“Hey,” Maggie says. Lena glances up at her, but drops her gaze when she sees how seriously Maggie’s looking at her. “I’m really sorry if Alex yelled at you. I’m sure she is too, she’s just not the absolute greatest at apologies or general emotions. She gets really angry and upset when Kara’s hurt, especially when there’s nothing Alex can do—or hurt—to help her sister. I love Alex with all my heart, but she can be a little… single minded sometimes. I just wanted to make sure you knew that you didn’t deserve that, okay?” Lena’s quiet. She didn’t mean to hurt Kara—it’s shocking that she even has that power—but what on earth is she supposed to say to Maggie? That’s without a doubt the nicest apology she’s ever gotten and right now about ninety percent of her energy is going into not crying. 

“I didn’t mean… I just…” Ever the eloquent fool, Lena cannot transform the jumble in her brain into coherent thoughts. Thankfully, Maggie takes pity on her.

“I know,” she says. Maggie repositions herself so that she’s able to reach up to Lena’s head. Her fingers pause at the base of her ponytail, and when Lena doesn’t stop her Maggie pulls the elastic out gently, working her fingers through Lena’s hair and starting to rub her scalp. It’s ridiculous, how much tensions melts out of her at the pressure on her head. She’s sure Maggie can tell if her self satisfied smirk is any indication. 

Lena’s halfway to sleep when Alex walks back in, wearing normal, non-designer sweatpants and a National City Police Department shirt, but Lena does her best to perk back up. Without comment, Alex sits down on the other side of Lena as Maggie starts the movie. It takes at least ninety- _ four _ percent of everything Lena has not to start crying right away. 

As the movie picks up, Lena can tell that Maggie and Alex are communicating across her and, most likely, about her. About ten minutes in Maggie gets up.

“I’m gonna make something to drink,” Maggie announces. “Do you want tea or hot chocolate, Lena?” First of all, Lena’s beverages consist almost entirely of coffee, wine, and hard liquor, with the occasional sparkling water thrown in. Secondly, what if Maggie wants to make one thing and Lena asks for the other? She doesn’t want to be even more of a hassle than she is already. 

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” she says. Maggie laughs. 

“Tough luck, Little Luthor. I’m having tea and Danvers only drinks hot chocolate, so you still gotta decide.” Lena can hear Maggie opening cabinets in the kitchen.

“Tea then, if that’s okay.” 

“Of course it is! I offered it to you.” Lena’s glad only one of them can see her face burning. 

Maggie’s still busy in the kitchen when, less than two minutes later Alex clears her throat, shifting away from Lena to look at her. 

“Do you want to tell Maggie and Kara or do you want me to tell them?” she asks. Lena’s glad Kara’s not here because she’s pretty sure her heart stops all the way and picks back up at double speed. There’s really nothing else Alex could be talking about, but Lena is willing to hold onto any hope, however small, that she means anything other than the scars and red pen. 

“Tell them what?” Lena asks, sitting straighter like Lillian taught her. Lena is a good liar because Lena is a Luthor; she doesn’t know how to separate them, and, more importantly, she doesn’t know how to spout bullshit on Alex Danvers’s couch while watching Star Wars. This is uncharted territory. 

“Lena,” Alex sighs. Lena can’t help but wince at that. “Please just work with me here.” Lena twists her fingers together in her lap and watches the screen. She can deal with getting arrested. She can deal with trials. She can deal with boardrooms. She can deal with attempted assassinations. She cannot deal with this.

“I’m fine, Agent,” she says, jaw clenched against the lump in her throat. She goes to continue but Alex cuts her off. 

“No! You don’t get to do that! You can’t keep calling me ‘Agent Danvers’ like this. I don’t stop being Alex when you’re uncomfortable, just like you don’t stop being Lena when I’m mad at you. Clearly I’m guilty of this, too, and I’m really, really,  _ really _ sorry for the way I acted earlier. That was so uncool, and even though what you did wasn’t the greatest, I was really unfair to you. And I’m sorry. But I’m trying to fix it, and I’m trying to help. We care about you and we want to help you, but I can’t do that if you keep putting up this wall,” Alex says, pushed back against the arm of the couch so she can look Lena in the face. Lena doesn’t say anything for more than a minute. 

“Kara doesn’t…” she finally starts, hands clenched white in her lap and voice barely above a whisper. She keeps her eyes on the T.V. to keep from crying. “They don’t need to know how pathetic I am. You weren’t supposed to— It’s bad enough that you know how incompetent I am at just  _ functioning _ . I don’t want Kara…” She bites down on her lip as tears well up in her eyes. She takes a shaky breath and hopes that Alex is paying little enough attention that she doesn’t notice. 

“Alex. I could deal with you hating me. I could even deal with you _ and _ Maggie hating me, but I don’t know what I’d do if Kara hated me. I’m sorry.” Alex is silent. Lena’s heart feels like it’s burning a hole through her chest. She chances a glance at Alex, who is absolutely fuming. She looks furious. Lena drops her eyes to her lap. She’s going to cry any second now.

“What the  _ fuck _ , Lena?” Alex finally exclaims. Lena flinches violently. “You think we’re going to  _ hate _ you? That’s so ridiculous. The  _ entire fucking point _ is that we love you!” Lena can feel herself shrinking into herself. 

“Alex,” she hears from above her, firm and hard but not unkind. “You’re scaring her.” And normally Lena would be mortified by what Maggie just said, but she doesn’t know how much more embarrassed she could even be right now. 

“Lena,” Maggie says softly. Lena clenches her eyes shut because, for some reason, that’s what makes it all too much. She holds her breath in a last ditch effort to stop her sobs, even as tears leak from her eyes and drop onto her lap. It’s too much.

And here she is, twenty-three years old on her not-girlfriend’s sister’s couch, curled in on herself and shaking with sobs. What a pathetic picture she must be. It’s too much, and then she’s crying, full out sobbing, and Alex is cursing and fumbling to pull Lena, who is rigormortis tense, into her. Alex runs clumsy fingers along Lena’s back as Lena cries.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Alex says. Lena does her best to keep quiet since it’s pointless to try to stop crying. She feels Maggie sit down on her other side, keeping a respectable distance as Alex continues. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m, oh god, I’m so bad at this. Shit. Okay, god, um. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. You just— Okay. Kara loves you. Maggie loves you. I love you. A lot of other people love you too, but what I mean is that it’s ridiculous to think we’d think you were pathetic for something like this, okay? That’s so, I just. Look. We’re not going to un-love you because you’re bad at taking care of yourself, or because you deal with shit that’s really hard to deal with, or if you slip up and hurt yourself,” (Lena winces, even pulled as close to Alex as she is; there’s no way Maggie doesn’t know now) “or because, god forbid, you think you think you deserve it. Okay? I know today is hard, and I’m sorry for making it harder.” She gently pulls Lena up so that she’ll look at her. She makes Lena meet her eyes.

“Maggie cried for five hours when David Bowie died,” Alex tells her, as seriously as she’s said anything all day. 

“Oh god, Alex. What the fuck?” Maggie exclaims, pouting even as she laughs. Lena can’t help but crack a watery smile. She pulls back from Alex, tears slowing, and wipes furiously at her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, trying to steady the clutter in her chest. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Maggie says, more brightly than Lena thinks the situation warrants. Maggie shifts her weight so she’s closer to Lena and drops her hand to draw nonsensical patterns over Lena’s thigh. It’s grounding. They watch the movie in silence. A few minutes later there’s a knock at the door. 

“Get the pizza,” Maggie says, eyes glued to the screen. Alex groans.

“Hey Maggie, dear, would you appreciate it if I answered the door?” Alex mocks as she extracts herself from Lena.

“Love you!” Maggie calls as Alex pads toward the door, grabbing her wallet off the counter. Lena listens as Alex makes small talk with the pizza guy, asks him how school is then tips about fifty percent. Alex clicks the door shut and moves into the kitchen, dropping the boxes on the counter. Lena hears cardboard rubbing against cardboard as Alex opens the boxes. She returns the couch a minute or so later carrying two boxes in one hand and a roll of paper towels in the other. She drops them onto the coffee table as she plops back into her seat. 

“I figured you were a veggie person,” Alex says to Lena. “Maggie’s a veggie person.” She pauses. “Oh god. Are you vegan? Maggie’s ‘vegan,’” (here, Alex does air quotes) “so she’ll eat pizza, but if you’re vegan we can get something else,” Alex rushes. Lena smiles.

“Just vegetarian,” she says. 

“Thank god,” Alex sighs, leaning back against the couch. “Here.” She offers Lena and Maggie one box, then opens the other and grabs a slice of pepperoni and sausage pizza. Lena eats only one piece of pizza and she is entirely sure that both Alex and Maggie notice, but thankfully neither of them say anything about it. They’re almost to the end of the movie when Maggie speaks. 

“Do you wanna talk about it, Lena?” And it’s just that Lena had kind of hoped they could ignore this entire incident, but apparently not. 

“I,” Lena gapes. “I just, I don’t know, I’ve never…” Maggie squeezes her knee. 

“It’s okay, Little Luthor. Just know we’re always available, okay?” Lena shrugs, nodding. Maggie sighs. The movie plays on for a couple more minutes. Lena takes a deep breath.

“When I was little, after I was old enough to understand what being adopted meant, Lex would show me movies that Lillian thought I wasn’t old enough to watch. Not ones that were actually inappropriate, just films that Lillian disagreed with or… Star Wars was our favorite.” Lena takes yet another shaky breath. “Lex loved space. It fascinated him. And I’ve always been a sucker for an underdog,” Lena says, smiling even as her voice shakes. “Plus, I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was obviously totally in love with Princess Leia.”

“Right, of course,” Maggie says, and Lena loves her for her casual air. 

“I read her books in high school and college. She’s just someone I attached with the notion of feeling better, is all,” Lena shrugs. She can almost feel Alex and Maggie waiting for her to talk about hurting herself, but she just really doesn’t want to. It’s not any of their business, and it’s not like it even matters anyway. But it’s so,  _ so _ quiet, because the two older women are waiting for Lena to continue, and she’s already let them down so much, she’s sure; there’s little point in shutting up now. 

“It’s not, it’s unconnected to…” And, god, Lena is just doing a terrible job of this, isn’t she? “I hate Christmas,” she finally says, laughing even as she wants to cry. “It’s a bad time and this is a bad thing, but I wasn’t actually…” She can’t say it. Lena Luthor, CEO at twenty-two, college graduate at nineteen, perfect standardized test scores, boardroom white-hot boss, and actress extraordinaire, cannot say out loud that she wants to cut herself, that she has cut herself, that she’s about ninety-seven percent sure that she will, again cut herself. 

And, thankfully, she doesn’t have to try again, because right at that moment she hears something outside the window, thinks that it’s probably Kara, knows that it’s definitely Kara when Alex coughs loudly and starts shifting around, knocking into Lena and asking her loudly if she would like some water. A few seconds later Kara pushes open the door to Alex’s apartment and Lena’s sure the surprise on her face is, if delayed, real. 

“Lena,” she says like it’s the first word she’s ever heard. Lena isn’t sure how she’s supposed to respond. What do you say to that?  _ Hi, Kara, sorry I’ve been avoiding you I’m just in love with you and also I want to die _ ? Definitely not. 

“Hi, Kara,” she says, ducking her head slightly under Kara’s gaze. She knows Kara can hear her heart pounding, can probably sense her hands shaking, but as terrible at Lena feels—as guilty and as inadequate—she’s so happy to just see Kara again. 

Maggie gets up from the couch as Kara makes her way slowly across the room, shedding the layers Lena knows she only just donned for show. Maggie repositions herself on Alex’s lap—with only a muffled groan of surprise from the agent—so Kara can take the seat next to Lena.

Lena watches as Kara looks around, takes in the movie ending on the tv, Lena’s not even totally eaten singular piece of pizza, the crease between Alex’s brows, all the not-makeup Lena is wearing, all the tear tracks she is. Lena sighs, tries to shrink into herself just the tiniest bit more as Kara drops onto the couch beside her, rubbing Lena’s thigh comfortingly. 

“You alright?” Kara whispers, low enough that Lena thinks Maggie and Alex don’t hear. Lena, ever eloquent, does a strange sort of shrug nod. From the corner of her eye she sees Kara smile, a bit too sad.

“Missed you,” Kara whispers, leaning her head on Lena’s shoulder. Lena is unbearably embarrassed by the way her heart picks up; she knows Kara can hear it, after all. “Alex texted me a while ago,” Kara continues, still barely more than breathing. “Said we needed to have a serious conversation. Are you a part of that?” Lena tenses.

“I think so.” She’s just as quiet as Kara but there’s an unmistakable shake in her voice. 

“Hey,” Kara says, still low enough that Alex and Maggie would have to strain to hear. She lifts her head from Lena’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay. I’m kinda mad at you, but I’m mostly happy to see you, all right?” Lena nods, blinking away tears. “You’re wonderful.”

“I love you,” Lena says, and it’s half admission and half casual enough that Kara doesn’t need to know what she means. 

“I know,” Kara grins, squeezing Lena’s hand. Lena can’t help but groan at that, but she smiles all the same. 


End file.
